


Mischief Mismanaged

by Drarry_Quite_Contrary



Series: HP Kinkuary 2021 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Confessions, Fantasizing, Forbidden Love, HP Kinkuary 2021, Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch Locker Rooms, Incest, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarry_Quite_Contrary/pseuds/Drarry_Quite_Contrary
Summary: HP Kinkuary 2021 Prompt: First TimeGeorge is having a wank in the showers, and Fred just might know what to do about it.CW: Twincest | Don’t like it? Don’t read it. <3
Relationships: Fred Weasley/George Weasley
Series: HP Kinkuary 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146200
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	Mischief Mismanaged

**Author's Note:**

> ** **Characters / world created and owned by J.K. Rowling** **

"Go on, Fred. You'll be late for supper."

Fred tousled his hair in the mirror, admiring his long disheveled smugly. He wasn’t sure why, but it drove George mad. How else would anyone tell them apart? Not to mention the delight he found in his brother’s annoyed expressions as George attempted to smooth the mayhem with his fingers, just for Fred to ruffle his own hair. Fred smirked in the way George always had, a small dimple creased the corner of his mouth. It provoked a stirring in his gut.

He was just hungry, that’s all. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be a bit yet.”

“You and your showers,” he chuckled under his breath.

George always took excruciatingly long showers. A bit of soap, hair, body—shouldn't take more than 10 minutes, tops. He wasn’t about to start thinking what else got on...

"Alright then," called Fred, sitting down on a bench to pull on his boots. “I’ll make sure Ron leaves something for you, shall I?”

George did not respond and Fred just shrugged. He walked over to check the lock on their brooms—not that they’d be worth stealing—before heading out the door and onto the pitch. He’d nearly made it to the courtyard when he remembered.

“Shit.” 

He’d forgotten his jumper. His brother might nab it for him, but George was the daft one after all. He’d lose his nose if it wasn’t attached to his face. Fred laughed at this, picturing the countless trails of forgotten items Fred would collect in his wake. Luckily, he was always happy to follow. Wherever George went, he’d go. Obviously.

Fred shrugged, turning to go back. If George was done, they could head to supper together. He felt a bit lighter at the thought. The occasional instances where they were apart always felt—weird. Quiet. 

He used to resent the fact that they were always considered a matched set. Fred  _ ‘n  _ George. Two seen as one. Now, he couldn’t imagine being anything other than what they were. Brothers. Best mates. Masters of mischief and mayhem. A stitch in their mum’s side. Now business partners. 

He’d never have a bond like this with his other siblings, but how could he? They had practically the same DNA. Their mum told them they fell asleep holding hands nearly every night. They’d also seen the photos. Over, and over, and over again.

Fred opened the door to hear the shower still running. Merlin. He let out an annoyed huff as he grabbed the jumper off a bench. Fuck it, he’d just wait. Couldn’t take much longer now. 

Fred sat down on the bench, closed his eyes, breathing in the hot, lavender scented air. He was about to nod off when a small sound echoed behind him and his eyes flew open. Was that? No. He was only hearing things. Then he heard it again—a soft moan. 

Fred swallowed as he listened intently, his heart racing. He stood, taking slow, silent steps toward the showers. The moans were growing louder, more...lewd. Fred felt a rush of heat in his groin, his cheeks aflame. Even his freckles flushed.

A gasp echoed into the locker room, and Fred jumped. This was wrong and he needed to leave. Every teenage boy needed a good wank once in a while, right? He shook his head in an attempt to regain control of his senses. He took a few steps back before turning toward the door, determined to forget this ever happened and—

_ "Fred." _

The voice was breathless, heady. Fred’s blood ran cold, his gut twisting. He held his breath. Did George know he was here?

_ "Oh, God. Fred." _

Fred’s trousers tightened and he sucked in a breath, a heat boiling in his groin. He could hear the squelching and slapping of slick skin against skin. George was wanking...and thinking about  _ him _ . 

Time to go. Get out. Forget this happened. It never happened.

But he wasn’t leaving; he was walking toward the showers. Before he could let even an inkling of sense and reason return, he was kicking off his boots. His shirt followed, then his pants and trousers. 

Fred felt a growl rumble in his throat as approached his brother’s stall. George faced away from him, his taught ass on full display. Hot water trickling in streams down his back, along his waist and legs. He had one hand pressed up against the wall as his other pumped furiously over his cock.

The moaning grew louder, unrestrained. 

“Oh, fuck, Fred. I’m so close.” 

George was about to come and Fred wanted to see, his own cock hard and throbbing as he admired the soft curves of his waist, the rippling muscles on his back and shoulders, landing on his firm, round ass. 

Fuck.

Fred approached him from behind and slid a hesitant hand up George’s waist. George's breath caught, sputtering as he sucked in water. 

“Come for me, George,” Fred growled into his ear, taking a tight cheek into his palm, squeezing.

“Fred!” he gasped in surprise as he cried out, splattering hot streaks of cum on the tiled shower wall. 

“Yeah.”

Sliding his hands along George’s waist, tracing the curve of his hips, then up his spine. George, like Fred, had a lean, muscular build. What was he doing? Why did it feel like this was something he had always wanted, to touch him, have him.

Fred’s lips grazed his brother’s neck as his fingers traced a path along the curve of George’s ass. His opposite hand slid along Greorge’s tight stomach, lingering painfully close to his re-hardening cock.

“Is this what you wanted?” He could feel George’s tremors of the aftershock of his climax, the rapid beating of his heart.

“Fred, bloody hell. What are you—“

Trailing kisses along George’s neck and shoulder, Fred pulled his brother flat against his chest, his erection resting perfectly in the cleft of George’s ass.

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

Fred needed more of him—all of him. Fred’s hands grazed George’s stomach and up to George’s chest. He let out a sharp gasp as Fred took a firm nipple between his fingers, nibbled on his ear.

George’s shaking intensified, causing Fred to pause. “Are you okay?” He removed his hands, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking I—“

George whirled around, wrapping his arms around Fred’s neck, kissing him deeply. Fred wrapped his arms around George’s waist as his mouth opened for him. Sparks trickled down Fred’s spine, his cock aching and pressed firmly against George’s pelvis.

Fred growled into George’s mouth as he pressed in harder, their cocks sliding against one another as they ground against each other. George broke the kiss, panting, arms still tightly wrapped around Fred’s neck. 

“I never thought,” said George, “that you’d...that we’d...”

“Merlin, I do. You have no idea how much I want this—want  _ you.”  _

Fred pressed in a hiss, but it felt different. George wasn’t kissing him back. Fred pulled back and George lowered his eyes.

“Angelina.”

Fred blanched. “What about her?”

“You fancy her.”

Fred couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re joking, right? I took her to one ball. That was almost two years ago. We tried but it wasn’t…”  _ You. _

Fred lifted his brother’s chin, observing his anxious expression, eyes watery. From the shower or tears, Fred did not know, but he wiped a thumb across his cheek all the same. 

“You’re a part of me, George. You always have been. Without you, I might as well have lost a limb. I hate it when we are apart. I never want anyone to come between us or take you from me.” 

George’s gaze intensified, almost pleading. Fred almost smiled. The desperation on George’s face only intensified his want.

“I can understand why...if it had been you and Angelina. It would take everything to keep me from knocking her off her broom.”

Fred pressed his hand against George’s chest, slowly pushing him backward against the wall, turning off the tap. George’s skin glistened, beads of water streaming down his body, and Fred’s eyes could not help but follow. 

“What do you want?” Fred asked, brown eyes locking with brown. “Tell me what you want, George.”

George only stared at him, speech caught in his throat. Fred stepped toward him, a hand grasping the nape of George’s neck as he kissed along his jaw. Fred’s opposite hand brushed against George’s shaft, and his brother let out a moan. He took George fully in hand as he slowly began to stroke. 

“What were you thinking about, George? When you did this,” he tightened his grip, “and called out my name.”

George nearly crumpled against him, but Fred held him fast against the tiles. 

“I was…” 

He cried out as Fred’s thumb circled its head, grazing over the head, smearing pre-come across it, then down his shaft again.

“Yes?”

“Fuck, Fred…”

“I’m waiting.” 

“I was fucking you, alright?!”

Fred paused his ministrations. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but definitely not this. Fred sucking him off, probably. Or George sucking him off. But,  _ that.  _ Fred realized in an instant he’d always pictured himself doing the fucking, but this was George. Not some girl or other submissive lover. He had the same fire in him that Fred had. And he loved him for it.

He’d hesitated a moment too long. George’s eyes widened in panic, color draining from his face. Even his freckles disappeared. He shoved against Fred’s chest, before scrambling from the stall.

Fred had slipped, grabbing hold of the tap, steadying himself.

“George, wait!” He nearly slipped again as he ran after him, cursing. “Fuck...George!” 

Just as he rounded the corner, he watched as a haphazardly dressed George tugged on his jumper and bolted out the door. Fred ran for his trousers, yanked his wand from his pocket and cast a rushed drying charm as he tugged on his clothes. By the time he made it out of the locker room, George was nowhere in sight.

He let out a frustrated groan as he combed his fingers through his hair. He was a fucking twat. If he hadn’t been shell-shocked by George’s confession, they’d still be in there doing...well. Everything he hadn’t realized he wanted to do with George until that moment. Fred would have let him. Fuck, he’d have done anything.

As long as it was him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
